The Heart of a Champion

Monday's national championship basketball game between Butler and UConn was, in a word, terrible. For any basketball fan unaffiliated with either school, watching that brick-fest was tolerable only as an exercise in sports disaster porn. In that regard, the game was one of the industry's best releases since the Yankees shot their 2004 scheisse classic, Red Sox, Brown Briefs (of course, kink titles have an edge in the marketplace).

Going into this Final Four, there was great wailing and gnashing of teeth among the sports media bemoaning the fact that not one but two "mid-major" teams (i.e., college sports' hoi polloi) not only made it to the semifinal round, but also were matched against each other, guaranteeing one of them a spot in the finals and a real shot at an improbable title. Basketball's power brokers don't mind if the common folk scrub themselves up and sit quietly in the corners at the party, but when it comes to the Big Money portion of the Big Dance, they want to see basketball's bluebloods strutting their stuff. To basketball's self-appointed guardians, a mid-major upstart is a nice little storyline, but an actual mid-major champion would make a farce of such a serious event.

The interesting thing is that many of the same pundits who decry the increasingly common mid-major run deep in the Big Dance also openly advocate for increasing the number of teams allowed in the tournament, on the premise that a field of 68 somehow shuts out a "deserving" team. At first blush, VCU's run this season from one of the last two at-large teams into the field to a Final Four slot with a real shot at the title would seem to vindicate the concept of expanding the field. But what tournament expansion advocates really want is more slots to fill with teams from traditional power conferences. Power conferences (and their schools' alumni, administrators, and coaches) crave the added revenue (and job security) which attach to making it to the Big Dance, compounded nicely if several conference teams make deep runs.

Let's be clear about one point, however. Expanding the tournament field is not about identifying the "best" team as a national champion. Letting another 28 teams qualify for the field means adding another 28 mediocre teams that had rather, well, mediocre regular season results. For example, a team that went .500 in its own conference can't possibly be considered an elite team worthy of being called "champion", but somehow it's a travesty to many in the media that such teams usually fail to make the tournament. Imagine the horror if such a laughingstock entry actually combined some beneficial matchups with some fortuitous chaos from upsets of the true powerhouse teams and made an improbable six game championship run. Well, I suppose if that team were a basketball blueblood like UConn, then the media might politely overlook the anemic regular season performance while applauding the team's tournament championship. But heaven forbid a team like VCU or George Mason might actually sneak into the tournament and then get a little hot and a little lucky on a run to the title.

What college basketball pundits fail to recognize is an obvious fact of life in the world of poker: Expanded fields dilute the chances for the truly elite players or teams to win. It's no coincidence that John Wooden's marvelous run of 10 NCAA basketball titles in 12 seasons at UCLA occurred prior to 1975. Prior to 1975, only conference champions made the field, keeping strong second-best teams from strong conferences out of the tournament. Also in 1975, the field size expanded to 32 teams; UCLA was essentially seeded into the Sweet Sixteen round every season it won a title under Wooden.

UCLA's dominance in the pre-expansion tournament is analogous to the WSOP. In its early days, the fields for the WSOP were dominated by elite players, and elite players--Amarillo Slim, Doyle Brunson, Stu Ungar, Johnny Chan, and yes, Phil Hellmuth--were consistently in the running for the title, with the occasional Robert Varkonyi sneaking in. But with the "Moneymaker boom" in 2003, field sizes increased dramatically, and the number of elite pros making deep runs has dwindled markedly. As many in the poker world have noted, with deep fields comes greatly increased variance, and the elite players are more vulnerable to elimination by a no-name, less-talented player on a hot run. Goodbye Phil Ivey. Hello Jamie Gold, Jerry Yang, Darvin Moon, and Steve Dannenman--the mid-majors of the poker world.

A tournament champion--whether poker or basketball--is not about identifying the best player or team*; a tournament champion is the player or team which has the right combination of skill and good fortune at the right time. If you want the "national champion" to be guaranteed to be a truly "deserving" team, then the right solution is to limit the participants in the tournament to a very few of the very elite. If college basketball wants to avoid an "undeserving" mid-major champion, the best solution is contraction of the tournament field. In other words, college basketball needs to scrap the Big Dance and start a Basketball BCS.

Until then, I'm going to keep rooting for the mid-majors.

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* Head to head combat, with the current champion taking on challengers, is the only clear cut method to determine a "champion" who is also "best". Which means that I am the three-time belt-winning champion of Words With Friends versus "Real Dawn Summers" of Clareified fame. How 'bout them apples?!?

Posted from my iPhone using BlogPress.

The Haiku of Ironman

Santa's elves (no relation to Lucky, our token leprechaun) have hinted that release of the official trip report for Ironman of Poker VI--Santa's 12 is imminent. Which likely means "when I damn well feel like it." So, to satisfy your IMOP jones in the interim, I offer these cryptic teasers in haiku form:

Sex & City slots
Sports book rollercoaster ride
Fourball for the win

Sahara red coat
Caipirinha waterfall
Fat ball prop denied

Crazy Belgian chef
Tiny headwear, goose and juice
Pot limit jackpot

Stripper on Fremont
Mojitos versus anvils
Hooker on River

To the cloud! Fukkaw!
Riviera heater check
Da Grump 4 Da Win!





- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Friday Fun (v. 2.1)—Otis & the Zen of Tiny Hats

After a long faux-hiatus, Friday Fun randomly returns as I finally have some interesting sites to recommend. Also, I've decided that I need to get back in the regular blogging groove now that I've settled into the new work gig, and what better way to stretch the fingers for a warm-up post than a good ol' fashioned link dump?

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First off is a great new radio show and podcast, Zen Parenting. Despite my philosophy and religion degree, my lack of kids probably puts me a bit outside the target audience for this show; likely in a different galaxy, to be honest. But, I learned about the show because a couple of months ago, an old college buddy started spamming me every week about the release of each new episode. Eventually, curiosity won out, and I tuned in, only to discover that my college buddy and his lovely wife were the co-hosts! (Perhaps if I'd actually read those emails I might have known this factoid in advance, but who has time when there are so many emails from people who need my help moving their money into the country?).

Each week on Zen Parenting, Todd and Cathy Adams spend roughly a half hour discussing issues and situations they have encountered while raising their three young daughters, using a mix of humor, frank debate, and Todd's Yoda impersonation. Cathy is a sweet, smart lady with degrees in elementary education and social work. Cathy also is a special person to handle Todd and three kids all at once, while keeping a sense of humor. Speaking of Todd, he has already made a guest appearance here at crAAKKer, but a little more background is in order. Todd was a good friend in college, kind of the uber-guy's guy, always into sports, drinking, and flirting with women.* Todd is one of the friendliest and most self-confident guys I know, able to work a room of strangers like they were lifelong friends, never afraid of looking like an idiot if he wanted to do something that seemed potentially entertaining. Although his profile on the Zen Parenting website claims that Todd is a logical guy (which is true), it sells him short of his best quality—his heart. Todd values friendships, and works to keep them strong. He also has helped found and operate a great charity with some of his friends—Santa's Cause, devoted to providing holiday gifts to underprivileged children in the Chicago area. So yeah, great guy. Great radio show. Check it out.

* A classic Todd story occurred over Labor Day 1998 (date approximated by fact that the weekend involved began with an apartment rooftop party that featured Will Smith's Gettin' Jiggy Wit It on heavy rotation in the host's party mix). Santa Claus and I had decided we needed a dose of Todd to liven up our young professional workaholic lives, so we trekked to Chicago. Most of the weekend is a hazy blur; thankfully the statute of limitations has almost certainly run on most any minor infractions we may have committed. Let's just say that on Saturday night, we started with shots while playing bocce ball as a pregame to Todd's challenge for us: "We're going to drink 'til we can't see!"

After getting the whirlwind tour of Todd's favorite Chicago watering holes, and running into several dozen of his friends, we finally found ourselves in a dive bar on Rush Street around 3:00 a.m., doing shots and playing Golden Tee with a friendly guy, who turned out to be a pimp who would take periodic breaks from the game to transact business (not with anyone in our group!). It just didn't seem appropriate (or smart) to complain about how he was holding up the game repeatedly; after all, he was at the office. At bar close, we crammed into a taxi and headed to the infamous Weiner's Circle for Chicago-style hot dogs and cheese fries, served with a healthy dose of rather vulgar verbal abuse (if you haven't been to Chicago, you have to see these videos, or the Showtime or Travel Channel specials, to understand the ... vibe).

In any event, to my handful of lady readers, Todd and Santa are proof that if you find a guy with a good heart, it is entirely possible to train him to be a loving husband and devoted father. However, they will need the occasional weekend with the boys, perhaps even a 40th birthday trip to Vegas (Mrs. Claus, I promise to take good care of Santa!).

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I know I've plugged Otis the Great & Wonderful before (still without question the best blogger in all the Carolinas, and likely throughout the erstwhile Confederacy), but his post earlier this week about a Saturday morning with his son fit right in with the parenting theme o' the week:

We went to Home Depot together and walked among gods on a Saturday morning. They were immortal more-than-men who would destroy things and build new things all in the same day. They were gods of their own homes, no matter whether those homes were built on wheels or foundations or gold bouillon. The people around us would buy socket wrenches and boards, 400-grit sandpaper and wood filler, electrical wire and chicken wire.

We bought earplugs.

Now, I happen to be a pretty good technical writer, but Otis' writing is so freakin' lyrical, it's almost poetry. I have to admit that there are moments when I read his stuff that I want to eat his brain zombie-style to absorb his writing abilities. Sadly, science is still a few years from making that possible. In the meantime, please enjoy Rapid Eye Reality.

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Since you've been good and patient readers, here's the tiny hat video I promised (hat tip to towleroad.com). Also, as a teaser for the imminent release of the official IMOP-VI trip report, there will be a tiny hat featured in our hijinks. Stay tuned true believers!

Odd Origami at the Meadows ATM

Saturday evening I made my first sojourn to the Meadows ATM since returning from IMOP-VI in Vegas. I've been on an extended "rungood" streak this year, and I was hoping that my statistical variance box abilities would translate into winning the record $147,000+ bad beat jackpot (Aces full of Yaks or better beaten by quads or better qualifies). Although my dreams of a quick hit fortune were ultimately dashed, I did get to witness a couple of truly curious hands.

A couple of hours into my session, College Kid to my left limped UTG. A loose EP player raised to $17, a bit high for the table, but not particularly extraordinary, either. Predictably, there were four callers back to College Kid. He thought, then mucked. The flop came out A-5-5 with two spades. There was a bet, two all-ins, and a call by original bettor for a monster three-way pot of over $700. Turns out it was AQ vs. AK vs. a flush draw, and the AK held for a monsterpotten. College Kid was visibly upset, and I immediately knew what he had done. "Folded pocket 5s, eh?" College Kid nodded morosely. Now it takes roughly 7:1 odds to set mine, and College Kid was getting 4:1 express odds with plenty of implied odds (look at all the money that went in the pot with just top pair or a draw). Factor in the remote but not negligible shot at a monster bad beat jackpot, and the preflop fold of a pocket pair for a mere $15 seems a bit ... irrational.

An hour or so later, an even more curious case of poker origami occurred. A tight player to my right, UFC Dude, limp-3-bet preflop to $45, and got a mere four callers. Yup, the table was that awesome. Anyway, the flop came out coordinated like Derek Jeter: KdJd9d. UFC Dude bet out $50, rather weak given the preflop action, unless of course he had AdQd for the stone cold nuts. Next guy to act folds. Next guy pushes all-in for about $250. Next guy pushes all-in for about $250 (no, that is not an error or double post). Next guy pushes all-in for over $400. UFC Dude has about $200 behind. UFC Dude thinks about 10 seconds and mucks face up:

Pocket Kings.

Yes, UFC dude folded Cowboys, laying down top set. He laid down a monster*.



Alrighty then. Let's assume worst case scenarios. Kings are dead only to a straight flush (QdTd), but still have one out to ~$73K for the bad beat jackpot. Kings are ahead of a set or two pair, and are drawing very live against a flush and/or straight. Kings are getting roughly 4:1 odds with two cards to come. Even against a spread of flush, straight, and set, Kings are just over 25% to boat up for the win, meaning a call is +EV. Against the actual hands of QsTs (straight), AdXx (nut flush draw), and 7d6d (flopped flush), Kings improve to have over 32% equity, again plenty good to call. In other words, even if the other hands are turned face up, Kings have to call based on math alone. But even stranger, even if one opponent rolls over the dreaded QdTd, with two cards to come Kings have ~4% odds of hitting quads for the bad beat jackpot (assuming there is no sign the fourth King has been folded). This gives UFC Guy an additional equity in the pot of ~$2,920 (4% x the $73,000 losing hand share). In other words, UFC Guy can only correctly fold here if he knows both that he is up against a straight flush and that the fourth King is not in play.

Yes, even today, there are still idiots donating money to poker games. Praise be the poker gods!

Raise or raise not. There is no fold.

(Origami and photo by "antzpantz" on Flickr).

POSTSCRIPT (29 March 2011):  JT88Keys raises a good point in the comments. Although the ultimate outcome of the hand is irrelevant to analyzing the proper play, there is a certain narrative closure provided by knowing what happened.

Mouths gaped and players gasped. I think I actually said, "You're kidding me." The dealer peeled off the turn: Yak, pairing the board (and boating up anyone holding, say, a set). UFC Guy looked like someone kicked his puppy. Dealer peeled off the river: 9, double pairing the board, leaving Kings as the best full house possible. UFC Guy looked like he was throwing up in his mouth as the monsterpotten was pushed to a player holding—in a three way hand on a double-paired board—a non-nut flush.

Crazy game, eh?

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* I just noticed for the first time that Teddy KGB flopped the nut straight with the mighty Deuce-Four, a/k/a "Das Grump". Figures that Hollywood would shoot a scene with such an improbably strong hand. Friggin' dramatic license.

'Nuff Said (v. 1.1)—Cash Plays

“Most of us young kids who play at nosebleed stakes don’t really have any clear idea about the actual value of the money we win or lose. Most of us see the money more as a points system. And because we’re all competitive, we want to have the highest score. But really, we don’t know what making $400,000 or losing $800,000 means, because we don’t have families or whatever. This blind spot gives us the freedom to always make the right move, regardless of the amount at stake, because our judgment isn’t clouded by any possible ramifications.”

—Daniel "jungleman12" Cates (quoted by Jay Kang in "Online Poker's Big Winner", New York Times Magazine (March 25, 2011).

One of the major adjustments I have to make anytime I play poker in Vegas is to take into account that $100 bills play, something unheard of in Midwestern poker rooms. Chips are easy for most people to put into the pot, since chips aren't regarded as money in as direct a manner as cash (part of the psychological bag of tricks employed by all casinos). But when $100 bills get thrown into the mix, particularly against inexperienced players, it's easy to notice the players who stop thinking, "I'm getting great odds for this call," but instead start thinking, "Wow! That's my car payment!"

Those folks ought to just slide me their chips and head for the clubs. Bottle service will be a cheaper and more productive use of their time.